Ever since the doctor told me that I had to lose weight, or else I would die young, I have been eating differently. That is probably not a surprise to hear. After all, I am 31 years old, and it scared the heck out fo me to hear an educated person say that to me. For whatever reason, I believed him, and I have been eating healthier since. I won't say that I eat entirely healthy, but I do eat healthier. I will still eat just about anything if it has chocolate on it. I doubt that will ever change.
The point of my story is this: I have started to fancy myself as a chef lately. I make concoctions out of the stuff I have in the fridge all the time and I make my own adaptations of old recipes that I have made in the past. I even watch cooking shows and make comments about the techniques that the TV chefs use, as though I know more than they do. Completely laughable, certainly. I wonder if I would like to be a chef? I don't know if I would like to make the same thing over and over. I think part of the fun for me is in making the occasional masterpiece and the occasional wretched trainwreck meal.
I also love farmers markets. I go out of my way to support the local farmers whenever I can lately, and I have been really impressed with the food. Perhaps it is the fact that it is super fresh, I dunno. I just feel better getting some of my food from people who are "my neighbors", I guess. It is usually about the same price as the commercial farm produce in the grocery store. Sometimes it is a lot more expensive, and sometimes it is dirt cheap.
Perhaps I will go to culinary school after my back gives out from too many years of gardening...
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5 comments:
First, nice post. Your time for having your own blog is long overdue.
Fish, you always could cook...you're just branching out more....but you've always been a chef. You get that from your papa.
I seem to remember a batch of beer brats boiled in the Champagne of Beers that were rather delightful. Granted, the smell from boiling High Life was enough to send you running, but that's alright! :)
Uhh, yeah, that wasth disthgusthing.
Coupled with the fact that I tried to vacuum your floor and ended up catching the edge of the frayed rug in the vacuum and burning up the motor. Boiling beer + burned rubber from vacuum belts = one disgusting stench!
I totally remember that night! I remember trying to stay outside even though it was really hot outside, because the stench indoors was horrific.
I also remember going to the store to buy the 40 oz. of miller high life. Nothing quite like being made fun of by the lady working at T&C whilst buying my cheap beer. I tried to convince the sales clerk that I was only going to cook with it, but she kept laughing at me anyway.
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